


The Last Knight

by Professor_Bats



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Shiro (Voltron), Canon-Typical Violence, Genderfluid Character, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2019-11-05 06:58:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17914001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Professor_Bats/pseuds/Professor_Bats
Summary: “You know something about that ship out there, don’t you?” Shiro spoke evenly, careful to keep his voice non-confrontational. He didn’t want Coran to feel threatened, but he needed to know what the three of them were possibly walking into. He needed to know what Coran didn’t feel comfortable saying in front of Allura.Coran hesitated, looking visibly bothered as he avoided the Black Paladin’s gaze.“In a way, yes…” The redhead’s voice was measured as he visibly struggled to choose words. “Shortly after the rise of Zarkon, King Alfor hand-selected an elite group of soldiers to serve as guardians for the Voltron Lions, as well as potential mentors to future paladins. These became known as The Knights of Alfor.”





	1. Pulse

“I’m picking something up. It’s faint, but steady, like a signal.” Pidge’s voice was tinged with excitement as the Green Paladin interrupted the view of the control window to share their findings.

“Pidge, stop doing that. I can’t see.” Lance’s voice betrayed his irritation. 

Shiro, in some way, understood. The teens continued proximity to one another was wearing on them.

What the kids had initially accepted as a grand adventure had quickly devolved into a stifling sort of boredom. 

Even learning the layout of the Castle Ship and attempting to master forming Voltron did little to alleviate the feeling of being trapped. 

“But guys, it’s something. Just look, okay?”

“It’s probably just a pulsar or something.” Keith was leaning as far back as he could in his seat, staring solidly at the ceiling. Shiro frowned, eyeing the data that Pidge had shared on the screen.

It didn’t seem quite right for a pulsar; if it had been, the rhythm of the rotating neutron star would be consistent and steady as it released radiation into the space around it.

But there was something else behind it; the faintest rise of frequency after the initial radiation blast, much like the lines on a heart rate monitor would rise and fall. It would be possible, on a reach, that the signal came from a binary system with two pulsar’s rotating at different rates, but it was highly unlikely. 

Shiro frowned, casting a glance over at Coran to try to guess the redhead’s thoughts. His face was calm, though pale as his fingers flew over the control panel before him.  
“I don’t think it’s a pulsar.” Shiro said after a moment, causing Keith to sit up and glare at him.

“Shiro’s right.” Coran said after a moment, casting an apprehensive look at Allura, who stood at the controls, her hands engulfed in silver-white light.

Her wide, blue eyes were fixed on the screen before her, scanning the data Pidge had provided as a smile crept across her face.

“It’s an Altean signal.” She said, her voice laced with hope. She rocked up and down excitedly on the balls of her feet.

Coran and Shiro exchanged a glance; it physically hurt to see her that hopeful, especially knowing full well the likelihood of any surviving members of the Altean species was so low.

“Wait, how do we know it’s not one of Zarkon’s traps?” Hunk’s voice was a cautious foil to Alluras. Shiro found himself quietly thankful that the boy had spoken; he was growing tired of being the bearer of bad news to the group, and it was difficult to resent Hunk with his easy, amicable nature.

Coran leaned forward, rubbing his chin in thought before pressing a spot on the screen.

A grainy video transmission filled the chamber, reminding Shiro vaguely of the old archival footage of Earth war films from the 20th century.

“Is it on?” An Altean man with shoulder length silver hair appeared on the screen. He was, by all standards, exquisitely handsome, with piercing green eyes and warm, brown skin that was somewhat dulled by the age of the transmission.

Shiro swallowed hard as he watched the man’s lips move, just slightly out of sync with the video.

“To any ships picking up on this signal, we are in desperate need of help. We have been-:” There was a burst of static, and the picture came back, looking darker and grainier than before.  
“I am Algoma, third in command of Altean Convoy ON-92. We managed to slip the Galra blockade on Altea just in time, however we…” He trailed off, his eyes shifting downward, thick, white lashes veiling his eyes.

“I don’t know how much time we have left.” A womans voice was whispering as the camera panned around the room, as if she were gesturing with the recording device.

In the darkness of the transmission, Shiro could make out the bodies of crew members slumped over their control panels, each seemingly surrounded in a gut-wrenching halo of darkness Shiro recognized from his time in Zarkon’s Arena.

“We are altering the mission, and hopeful that help will come quickly. Onara, over here.” The camera panned to Algoma, who looked dazed and disheartened.

“We’re low on power, and it’s getting dark inside the ship. We’re cutting power to bare minimum; just life support. We need backup to arrive quickly. We were compromised and now Ingham and Gleaves are both dead, as well as the crew. I’m taking the remaining Knights and their seconds and placing them in their pods for deployment.”

He inhaled, squaring his shoulders and looking directly at the camera one last time. There was a gravity in his expression that made Shiro’s heart leap into his throat, green eyes seeming to meet each of the Paladins in turn.

Shiro wanted the break the gaze, his heart hammering against his ribs and his stomach fluttering, but he couldn’t look away from the handsome Altean.

“We will be concealing ourselves close to the Atlantig nebula in the hopes the radiation will replenish our power in the absence of our crystal. This will be our final transmission. In the name of King Alfor, I wish you all farewell.”

The transmission ended and Shiro found that he had, at some point, forgotten to breath.

Regaining his composure, he dared a glance over at Coran and Allura.

Coran was pale as he looked down at the console, his palms resting heavily on the corners as he seemed to be propping himself up. His eyes were glassy, his brows knit in an expression of grief.

Allura swayed on the spot, withdrawing her hands from the navigation podiums.

“Please excuse me.” She said, her voice brimming with a tense composure, before turning and leaving the room, a deep and tangible feeling of grief in her wake.

Lance almost said something, rising from his seat to follow the Princess, but Shiro shot each of the kids a warning glance. He himself had a million questions, but held his tongue.

It felt like he had been bereft of something he never had in the first place.

There had been a great deal unsaid in the transmission, though heavily implied, and Coran seemed to fully understand the implications, though he said nothing to clarify.

“What the f-“

“Keith.” Shiro cut him off before the boy could finish the word. Coran sighed and sat back, running his fingers through his hair, visibly agitated.

“So…what do we do now?” Pidge said after a moment. Shiro sighed. He couldn’t win with these kids.

Coran hesitated a moment, inhaling deeply as he recovered his composure.

“We wait for the Princess to recover, and then we investigate the situation.”


	2. The Knights

The darkened hull of the Atean craft drifted, inert, before the view screen of the Castle Ship.

No one dared break the silence, the tension nearly palpable as all eyes tracked the movement of the blackened and battered vessel that drifted slowly before them.

Shiro found himself holding his breath as he waited for Coran or Allura to say something that would break the silence. It felt as though an interruption from anyone else would have been grossly inappropriate.

“It is still giving off an energy signal...” Coran’s tone was uncharacteristically heavy, his brow furrowed as he looked down at the console before him. “We’re lucky we picked it up at all.”

“But how long do you think it’s been out here?” Pidge was the first of the Paladins to speak, causing Allura to tense ever-so-slightly. Shiro shot the kid a warning look, but this only served to harden the Green Paladin’s resolve. Pidge knit her brow, returning Shiro’s frown in a way that reminded him so much of Matt that it felt like a punch to the gut. “It can’t have been out here the whole time. Wouldn’t the Galra have found it by now?”

“Not necessarily.” Coran said, inhaling cautiously. “With the pulsar masking its signature, it’s entirely possible it has been out here since the destruction of Altea, thought the odds of that are highly unlikely. In the transmission, Ser Algoma mentioned the conversion pulsar’s radiation into fuel, but…without a functioning crystal…”

“What are the odds that more Alteans survived? That there are more of us?” Allura said, her voice measured with a precise control that was very nearly at its breaking point. “And even if some of them did manage to escape…it’s been ten thousand years. Is it even possible?”

“Impossible? Or improbable, Princess?” Lance said, leaning back with a slight smile. Shiro inhaled sharply, feeling the tug of second-hand embarrassment in the pit of his stomach.

“Lance…”

“What, I’m just saying that…I mean…If Coran and Allura managed to…” The teen gestured vaguely before falling into an awkward silence. “Forget it. The Princess is probably right.”  
Shiro had to give him credit; Lance had been trying, in his own awkward way, to reassure Allura that all hope might not be lost. But it was just that; awkward. And perhaps not the timeliest comment.

They all still barely knew the Alteans, and were just finally starting to get a handle on forming Voltron. They had only just managed to get a new crystal from the depths of the Balmera.  
Shiro caught Coran’s eye, the older man briefly avoiding his gaze. There was something he wasn’t telling them, that he pointedly hadn’t told them over the past few days, and it was something Coran was hesitant to say in front of Allura.

Coran’s face was grim as he looked down at the console, the blue lights making his features look unusually gaunt.

“Well, it’s worth a look, isn’t it?” Shiro said, standing up. “If nothing else, we might be able to scavenge for parts. Coran, you know Altean technology. Would you mind coming with us. Keith? You’re coming, too.”

Keith sighed, but didn’t protest as he stood up, grabbing his helmet from between his knees.  
In silence, the three proceeded down the hallway. Shiro waited until the doors closed to the navigation room before he gestured for Keith to stop, effectively cornering Coran.

“You know something about that ship out there, don’t you?” Shiro spoke evenly, careful to keep his voice non-confrontational. He didn’t want Coran to feel threatened, but he needed to know what the three of them were possibly walking into. He needed to know what Coran didn’t feel comfortable saying in front of Allura.

Coran hesitated, looking visibly bothered as he avoided the Black Paladin’s gaze.

“In a way, yes…” The redhead’s voice was measured as he visibly struggled to choose words. “Shortly after the rise of Zarkon, King Alfor hand-selected an elite group of soldiers to serve as guardians for the Voltron Lions, as well as potential mentors to future paladins. These became known as The Knights of Alfor.”

“And…? So why didn’t you want to say that in front of the princess?” Keith seemed to spit the words, and Shiro placed his hand calmly on the teenagers shoulder.

Coran lifted his eyes to meet Shiro’s squarely. “When you five showed up, I assumed that the Knights convoy hadn’t made it past the Galra blockade.” He now looked at Keith, considering the teenager carefully from over the top of his thick moustache. “The Knights of Alfor were top secret. Only a select few close to the king knew of the operation. Ser Gleaves and Ingham were the Black and Red knights respectively. I knew them well and they were some of Altea’s most trusted generals. In Ser Algoma’s transmission, he implied that…something had gone wrong…”

“And?” Keith’s eyes were narrow, intense. Shiro squeeze the teen’s shoulder, urging the boy to ease up a little. It wasn’t, after all, an interrogation, and Coran was offering up this information freely.  
“It’s an Altean ONS-92 Shuttle. As Ser Algoma mentioned, Ser Gleaves and Ser Ingham managed to slip the blockade with the rest of the knights… which means it could possibly still have its cargo.” Coran continued, addressing Shiro directly as opposed to meeting Keith’s accusative glare.

“The Knights?” Shiro clarified, feeling his own eyebrows raise involuntarily at the thought of untapped information. He wanted to know more about the Knights, about the men who were supposed to have guarded the lions, who were supposed to have protected and trained the Paladins.

“Or at least, what’s left of them.” Keith interrupted.

“Yes…I suppose… but… there is a narrow possibility they have been in stasis this whole time, much like the Princess and I, as Lance mentioned before.”

Keith made a small, irritated noise at the mention of the Blue Paladin.

“Unlike the Castle of The Lions, they said their crystal was damaged, and Altean technology relies on Balmeran Crystals. Radiation energy is unstable and not suited well for situations like the Knights faced.”

“I don’t get it. Why didn’t you want to say this in front of Allura? I mean if there’s a chance of them being alive…” Keith’s face was impassive, but there was an edge of excitement to his voice. Shiro always wondered how the kid managed to pretend to not care as much as he did.

“Because it is a narrow possibility at best, and that’s being generous. And Allura hadn’t been informed about the Knights. It was all very top secret, hush-hush.” Coran said solemnly. “I ran a scan on the ship, and there are trace lifeforms aboard, but it’s a faint signature and there’s a high possibility it’s nothing more than a few stray mice…” He trailed off, his eyes distant.

“There were five of them, along with the crew and support. Most of the crew knew that they would not survive to see Voltron rise again, but the Knights were the last hope to ensure the right paladins were found. Gleaves, Ingham, Algoma, Arvida, and Onara were the five original Knights… ” The redhead trailed off, his eyes glassy from grief. These, Shiro understood, had been friends and companions. People Coran had known and trusted. People who had served Alfor and the Altean cause up until the end.

“So you didn’t want to get Allura’s hopes up.” Shiro said evenly. He had to admit, even he felt a thrill of fear and excitement at the prospect of another Altean ally…

No, he couldn’t get his own hopes up at well. If Coran was right, then it could be for nothing.  
“I guess it doesn’t hurt to check it out.” Keith shrugged, but Shiro knew the boy well enough to detect the glimmer of hope, of excitement in his voice. Shiro nodded and the group descended to the hangar.

It didn’t take them long to get coordinated, Coran suiting up quietly and quickly.

As the bay doors opened, Shiro couldn’t help but feel the tug of fear as the vastness of space opened up before him, the freezing, creeping vacuum threatening to suck the three of them out into the void beyond if they even so much as made one misstep.

It was hard to take that first leap towards the darkened ship, tension and dread suddenly overtaking the Black Paladin as the hull loomed towards them. It was clear that over the years it had taken quite a beating; the presence of Galra damage underlying the pits and pocks from prolonged time drifting in that particular area of space.

“Don’t get too close to the other side of that ship, the radiation from the pulsar could knock out your communication devices.” Even over the headset, Allura’s voice was tense. Her distress carried over to the trio, who each exchanged an anxious glance as Coran manually overrode an access hatch on the outside of the ship that let them into the airlock.

The entire ship gave a tremendous groan, pitching sideways just a little as the airlock depressurized, loose dust and debris floating past them.

“Careful.” Shiro could hear the echo of his own voice over the headset, feeling at though his teeth were being ground by sand as he activated the light on his bracer. The narrow beam shone down the dingy, ages-old hallway before the Black Paladin motioned for the three of them to proceed forward into the oppressive darkness.

Coran paused, sealing the hatch behind them and checking his data pad. “Well, the readings have changed a little, but they’re still here. There’s even still a little bit of gravity…”

“So where do we start?” Shiro scanned either side of the hallway with the narrow beam of blue-white light. It wasn’t pristine like the Castle Ship had been. There were burn marks on the walls, loose wires hanging from the ceiling; there had been a fight here.

“This place looks like sh-“

“Kieth!”

“This way, come on.” Coran gestured for them to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeahhh, my friends went on a long rant about Voltron the other day and I got so mad at the writers I cleaned my entire kitchen.  
> We've agreed that we're throwing out parts of season 7 and all of 8. I can't believe capitalism killed [REDACTED].  
>  I love the characters and the general concept, but damn. Just. Urgh. 
> 
> I'm just a salty child that needs to die mad about it I guess.


	3. Event Horizon

The inside of the ship was eerily quiet, save for a few intermittent groans and hisses as the ship struggled to maintain itself, it’s filtration system complaining violently as it kicked out stale, dusty air.

It felt nearly like they were entering a tomb as they pushed forward through the debris and decaying supply boxes, now laden with ten thousand years of dust from floating in space. 

The situation seemed strange to Shiro; standard procedure for spacecraft on earth was to have them as sterile as possible to prevent contamination. Where would the dust be coming from? Had the particulate matter filters partially failed.

Nothing seemed to be adding up, only fueling the growing sense of dread in the pit of Shiro’s stomach

None of them dared speak a word, a hushed silence falling on them as they pushed on past panels and wires that had fallen loose over the millennia.

Every so often, a pale blue light would flicker weakly, temporarily lighting up their path down the shabby hall like lightning on a stormy night. This only furthered to show the extent of the damage, wide arcs singed and cut into the sides of the hallway.

“I wonder what left these…” Keith’s voice seemed distant, as if the closeness of the air muffled his speech.

Coran ran one gloved hand over the marks, his expression unreadable under his helmet.

“Let’s keep moving. There should be a log in the cockpit that will give us more information.” He said after a moment. Once again, Shiro couldn’t hold back the thought that perhaps Coran was withholding information.

He knew something about this, and perhaps it was his remaining loyalty to the King of Altea that kept him from being forthcoming, but Shiro couldn’t help but feel a degree of concern about this.

What if it put them all in danger? Would Coran knowingly do that?

The Altean’s body language had changed dramatically from its usual frank openness. He seemed deeply uncomfortable, his brows knit in concentration, and a veiled look of horror crossing his features despite the relative calmness that he tried to put forth. 

They turned the corner to find the cockpit door partially open, though it looked as though there had been a struggle. The viewscreen beyond was fogged with pits and pockmarks from where small debris had battered it over the years, but the inside of the viewscreen brought with it a fresh wave of horror and dread.

A three-foot long singed gash had nearly broken the screen, melting the several-inch thick synthetic material partially without breaking it all the way through.

A smattering of black fluid had dried surrounding it, and vaguely, Shiro could make out the slumped form of what appeared to be a partially-mummified Altean resting against the console, its head having fallen somewhere at its feet.

He recognized the scene from Ser Algoma’s transmission, though with wasn’t nearly as ‘fresh’.

“What…happened here?” Keith’s voice was hushed as he shone his light around the cockpit, stepping forward without thinking.

He nearly tripped, Shiro instinctively grabbing his arm to keep the boy upright. Slowly, the three of them looked down, a dusty, partially decomposed and mummified hand reaching out towards the cockpit.

The rest of the corpse had been covered in a tarp that was now also partially decomposed, clinging to the prone figure.

Keiths’ dark eyes scanned the form, his face betraying his revulsion and horror.

Shiro’s chest tightened as he looked around through the darkness and gloom, Coran crouching down beside the tarp and moving the sheet just enough to see the mummified arm beneath it.

His hands shook visibly as he lifted the sheet, drawing it back to reveal the dingy black and white armor that covered the corpse.

“It’s Gleaves...” Coran’s voice was barely audible as he replaced the sheet, his face pale in the dim light as he backed up against the scorched metal walls. “These burns on the walls look like they came from the Knights weapons, but it makes no sense…there’s no sign of Galra on board, so they’d…be attacking each other…”

“Maybe they were.” Shiro said, feeling his own voice falter a little as he looked down at the corpse of the man who was supposed to have been his mentor. “It’s not uncommon for astronauts to suffer from forms of hysteria or dementia…”

“Not the Knights of Alfor.” Coran’s tone suggested he didn’t quite believe himself. “These were elite soldiers, the most trusted of Alfor’s forces.”

“It’s not impossible though. Maybe it was the crew that went nuts, since they were killed and the Knights weren’t.” Kieth said, stepping into the cockpit and shining his light at the deceased pilot to get a better look. “You said that the burns in the hallway came from the knights weapons. Well, look at this.” The teen pointed at the corpse, along the section of the neck from where the head had been liberated.

“It’s charred.” Coran took a step back, hitting the console with his elbow. The entire ship heaved, giving a metallic groan as it suddenly sprang to life.

The lights of the cockpit slowly flickered on, flooding the dingy room with a watery sort of light.

The cockpit flickered and a grainy hologram of a familiar man with shoulder-length white hair and a goatee came into view.

He wore green and white armor, his face looking solemn as he seemed to stare at them.

“It’s Ser Algoma…” Coran’s voice was nearly a whisper as he took a step back.

“If you are watching this, it means that our mission has failed.” Algoma spoke with a steady voice, his pale eyes seeming to pierce straight into Shiro’s soul. His chest felt tight as he looked at the man in the transmission, his stomach twisting.

There was a thick sorrow to the Knight’s voice, regret arching in a line on his brow.

“We managed to push through the Galra blockade surrounding Altea, however we were lead straight into a trap once we passed the fifth quadrant.” He hesitated, glancing at someone who was speaking in the distance. “We haven’t much time, but it would seem we were lead straight into the pryf’s nest and were ambushed. Gleaves…”

“Hurry it up, he is breaking through!” The panicked voice of a woman, the same from the original transmission, interrupted Algoma.

For a brief moment, an Altean woman with long black hair backed into view, her armor identical to Algoma’s, except in color. In her hands, she held something akin to a bayard, though it sparked and flickered with electricity, almost too bright for the sensors on the camera.

Algoma didn’t hesitate, rising from his seat and falling in line beside the woman. For a brief moment, the screen was completely full of his broad back, the green of his cloak obscuring the field.

“We don’t have much time. We need to break through and get into the pods.” Another male voice called as Algoma stepped back, his own bayard now split into twin blades, one in each hand. The woman was leveling a glaive made out of the same sparking energy that Shiro now recognized as Quintessence.

Shiro caught a glimpse of the third night; a tall, slim young man with a shock of red hair. His gold cloak spilled over his shoulders as he held his blades carefully, his feet falling into a perfect fencer’s stance.

There was an explosion off screen and a great deal of yelling. The recorder fell over, capturing the scene sideways as the man Shiro could only assume was Gleaves broke through the door, rushing on the trio.

“Hold the line. HOLD THE LINE.” Algoma’s deep voice shook as he stepped back. The recorder went to static, before cutting out completely. The hologram disappeared completely, leaving Shiro, Coran, and Keith standing in shocked silence.

“Coran…I’m…” Shiro felt his words freezing in his throat. Nothing he could say could augment the gravity of what they just saw. It seemed as though the Knights had found themselves in a situation that they fought one another, but why?

“They wouldn’t just turn on him like that…” Coran said, his voice low and shaky. “Gleaves…he was a good man. Loyal to Alfor…”

“We don’t know the whole story.” Shiro said calmly, knitting his brow and looking at the tarp-draped figure in the hallway. He couldn’t help but wonder what could have transpired here ten thousand years ago, a knot forming in his throat at the memory of Algoma’s face. “They said they needed to get to the pods…perhaps they made it.”

“We should at least check it out.” Keith said, glancing down the hallway with narrowed eyes.

Silently, Coran nodded, leading them down the burned corridor and opening the hatch to a separate chamber that almost appeared to be a heavily-armored cargo hold.

This one was dark, save for the dim glow of five separate panels, each radiating a pale blue light.

Five tanks stood before each panel, arranged around the chamber in a circle, surrounding a lowered panel on the floor that bore a familiar looking Altean symbol; the seal of King Alfor.

Coran paused at the door, shining his light on each stasis pod and exposing the Paladin symbol on each of them.

Shiro and Keith stepped forward into the room, a thrill of fear running down their spine as they approached the first tank; the Yellow Knight.

These pods stood larger than the ones Allura and Coran had been sealed in, heavily armored with their own thrusters and landing equipment, completely lacking the fogged, glass-like material that had decorated the ones aboard the Castle Ship. Each, after all, had been meant to make it to the final destinations of the Lions.

Shiro paused, glancing back at Coran, who nodded for him to proceed. Shiro had to fight back the feeling of dread that filled him as he placed his hand on the panel, using his gloved fingertips to work the sensitive screen.

A part of him knew what they would find before the pod was even completely open. There had been no hiss of pressurization as it opened, no indication that the pod had sealed properly.

Shiro moved in front of Keith to block the view of the body within. He knew Keith had probably seen worse, but that flair of paternal love moved Shiro almost on instinct alone.

As he suspected, what lay within was no longer tangibly Altean, a darkened husk, withered by time, resting hollowly against the stained padding of the pod, yellowed teeth bared as decayed lips pulled back into a grotesque grin.

It was a far cry from the fresh-faced young swordsman they had seen in the transmission, which somehow only magnified the shock of the situation.

Shiro closed the pod without waiting for further direction, turning wordlessly to the next pod. He didn’t want to dare a glance back at Coran. He, in a way, knew the look that would sit on the redhead’s face.

Instead it was Keith who glanced back for permission, his eyes wide with thinly veiled horror.

“Run a scan on each of the pods to check for any sign of life.” Shiro said quietly, his voice steady and even despite the tightness in his chest. Keith nodded tapping the controls on his arm and bringing up a small holographic panel.

"Red is not showing any life signs..." Keith's voice seemed stifled by the oppressive atmosphere of the chamber.

“None in Green…None in Black…”

Shiro's heart was beating fast, almost as if he were about to have another panic attack.  
He put his hand to his chest as Keith's beam moved to the Black pod.The boy glanced back at Shiro and shook his head. Part of Shiro wanted to tell the boy to stop. To turn back to the Castle and never look back on this ghost ship.

A dread was rising inside Shiro, making his arms feel like lead.

But something kept him rooted in place as Keith turned the scanner to the last pod. Each man held their breath as the narrow beam of light scanned up the front of the pod.

"There's...something..." Keith said after a moment. "They're alive..." His voice was quiet at first, turning back to look at Coran. "They're alive!"

Coran looked up, his face bright with hope as Keith moved towards the panel in front of the pod.

"Wait! Keith!"

It was too late.

There was a hiss of depressurization that filled the room with a white fog. Blue lights cut through the mist, casting an eerie glow throughout the chamber.

"Keith! Get back!"

Shiro could make out what appeared to be two eyes glowing a vibrant blue through the fog, Altean marks activated beneath them into a violent glare.

On their breast, shining like a star in the darkness, was a small, polished Balmera crystal.

The moment Shiro's eyes adjusted, he saw the figure lunge forward, an arc of Quintessence swinging through the air.

Shiro barely managed to pull Keith out of the way as the figure caught up with him, swinging wide around the path of the Quintessence blade.

His pulse rose and he fell into a crouching stance, activating his Galra arm.

The Knight raised the weapon, stabbing at him with the butt-spike. Shiro leaped back as the blade of the glaive swung down, meeting it with the palm of his Galra arm.

White light filled the chamber, followed by a shrill screech. Shiro grunted as heat ran down his arm and he leapt back, throwing the blade off of him as he moved backwards.

The Altean attacker used the blade as a leverage point, sinking it into the floor and using the centrifugal force to catch Shiro in the chest with their heavy, armor-clad boots, effectively causing him to lose his balance, falling backwards as his breath left his chest.

Shiro barely had time to catch himself on the front of the Blue pod before he saw the tip of the blade at his throat, the fog having receded fully. For a brief moment, Shiro was paralyzed, his mind reeling. It wasn’t the same as in the arena. This felt entirely different.

Above him stood a tall Altean woman, her eyes fading from a violent blue glow to a soft grey-green. They were narrowed as she stared him down, fully prepared to end his life if she chose to.

Shiro fought to regain his breath, trying to force his body to move. To do anything. He was helpless beneath her, his mouth hanging open as he looked up at the ancient figure.

Keith stood behind the Knight, his bayard pressed firmly to the back of her head, buried in the thick, black waves that cascaded down her back.

"Stand down! We're Paladins of Voltron!" Keith's voice was clear and concise and dripping with anger as it rang out across the chamber.

The woman lowered her weapon, eyeing Shiro wearily before deactivating her blade. He saw her eyes move to his arm, her dark brows furrowing beneath her fringe bangs.

“Your arm. It is Galra…” It felt like her icy gaze was boring into the pit of Shiro’s stomach.

"Drop it." Keith's voice was a low growl and the woman’s eyes flicked briefly in the boy’s direction.

"Keith..." Shiro finally managed to force his lungs to take in air, not wanting to make an enemy out of the woman. Reluctantly, her gloved fingers released the shaft of her weapon, letting it fall to the floor between Shiro’s knees.

"Back away slowly.”

“Keith…this isn’t how we make friends.” Shiro said, taking a moment to gather his wits. It felt like his muscles were beginning to relax and he closed his eyes, breathing in deep, slow breaths.

“Princess Allura, we found a survivor.” Coran’ voice shook a little, making the redheads transmission sound unusually choppy and labored. Or perhaps it was the sound of Shiro’s own heartbeat within his ears.

The woman stood up fully, seemingly ignoring the threat that was Keith. She turned slowly to face the redhead, knocking Keith’s arm away as dismissively as if he had been a child holding a toy. 

Keith looked shocked and a little offended, exchanging a wordless look of disbelief with Shiro as the woman stepped away, her pale blue cloak floating ominously behind her.

“Coran?” Her voice was breathy and deep, though a bit throaty with disuse.

“Ah, good morning, Ser Onara. Or should I say afternoon…” Coran’s voice settled onto one of a tense cheer as he stepped toward the group, his hands raised in a sign of peace and disarmament. “I uh…I believe we have some explaining to do. You’ve been asleep for quite a long time.”

“I should believe so.” She said, looking back Keith and cocking her head a little to consider the boy. After a moment, she turned back to Shiro before offering a hand. “My sincerest apologies… Paladins.”

Shiro looked at her hand, blinking slowly before taking it as a sign of goodwill and pulling himself up.

“Coran? Coran?” Allura’s voice was hushed, laced with an excited urgency over the headset. “Retrieve the survivor and return to the ship.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to meet this guy!” Hunk’s voice chimed in cheerily.


	4. Approaching Lightspeed

Shiro squared his shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension locked between his shoulder blades. It was bad enough having Sendak as a prisoner aboard the ship, now adding another unexpected passenger would further complicate matters.

He was going to have a decent bruise on his chest, but Coran had scanned him and there would be no long-term damage from being kicked by the Blue Knight.

Shiro was glad that they had found a survivor aboard the ship. In fact, he could barely believe the odds. It seemed almost too coincidental, but then again, out here it seemed like anything could happen.

He couldn’t help but feel an admitted disappointment, however, that it hadn’t been Ser Algoma that had survived. He would have liked to have gotten to know him.

A survivor had certainly justified the side trip on their way back to the Balmera.

As Shiro approached the sitting area, he spotted the other paladins lingering outside the open door.

Inside, he could hear Coran and the Knight talking at length, the woman looking visibly troubled, her shoulders hunched. She looked pale and a little ill now that they were in better lighting, and was clearly suffering from shock as she gripped her own arms tightly.

Her face was blank, staring down at the floor mostly. She spoke little, only when asked questions or otherwise prompted.

Shiro didn’t envy Coran for having to deliver the news of the fallen Altean race, of the Knight’s impossibly long slumber, and the fate of her fallen comrades.

He only hoped that the Knight could provide more information on what, exactly, had happened aboard the crumbling Altean ship.

Keith and Lance were milling around outside the doorway, hands in their pockets as they tried to casually eavesdrop, while Pidge and Hunk were far more blatant in their attempts to spy on the Alteans.

Shiro gave them all an exasperated look as he approached, lingering near Pidge and Hunk. 

“Any news yet?”

The two started, before giving him a guilty look. “We just wanted to see what the Knight looked like.”

“Hmm.” Shiro raised his eyebrow looking at Keith and Lance. “And you two?”

Keith shrugged, avoiding his gave. “I just wanted to see what these losers were up to.”

“Hey!” Lance’s ears flushed with indignation, before he shrugged. “Anyway, I wasn’t expecting the Knight to be…you know…”

He gestured vaguely.

“No, Lance, I don’t. Tell me. In detail.” Pidge said sharply, her tone one of irritation.

“You know… a chick.”

“Lance.” Shiro sighed, trying not to show his annoyance. “If the Garrison can be headed by Admiral Sanda, then a woman can be a knight.”

“Yeah, but Sanda is…you know…not” He gestured vaguely to the woman in the adjacent room.

“Not what, exactly?” Pidge’s voice rose enough to draw attention to the group in the hall.

Shiro closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as Allura appeared in the hallway. She was toying nervously with her hair, her wide eyes excited and uncertain.

“Has Coran finished briefing the Knight”

“Princess, there’s uh…something you should know about your knight.” Lance said, giving Shiro a cautious look. Shiro frowned, motioning for the Blue Paladin to hush.

“There’s nothing wrong with the Knight.”

“What? What is it?” Allura looked panicked for a moment.

“Lance is mad because the Knight’s a girl.” Hunk’s voice was thick with amusement.

“Hunk, would you shut up! I’m not mad! Girls can be whatever they want…my sister is-“

“No one cares, Lance.” Keith scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Keith!” Shiro sighed, feeling old beyond his years. Maybe it would be nice to have another adult on board the ship. Coran was good company, but a third would be helpful. “Look, I know this was unexpected and a lot to take on, but I want you all to treat them with the same respect you’d show an officer of the Garrison…” He paused, looking at Keith, wondering if he should have phrased things better. “Or as you would treat a friend.”

“Well, come in, all of you. Don’t just lurk around outside like some kind of gornlongs.” Coran called, his voice terse but cheerful. 

The kids each exchanged an excited glance before they piled into the room, standing around the Knight in a five-foot circle, each seeming to silently dare the others to get closer.

“This is Ser Onara, the Knight of The Blue Lion.”

The woman rose to her feet, seeming to tower over the Paladins as she assessed each one with a calm, even gaze. Shiro wondered for a moment if all Altean women had that kind of commanding presence.

She had an intelligent face with high cheekbones, her skin somewhere between Coran and Alluras in hue. Her hair was black, cut in a fringe across her brow, framing her stormy grey eyes and spilling down her back and over the blue cloak that hung from her broad shoulders.

“Hello, children. It is an honor to meet the new generation of Paladins.” She put her hand over her heart, bowing her head respectfully. “It will be my sincerest honor to serve you in whatever means necessary.”

“Uh, hey.” Hunk raised his hand in a slight wave. “I’m uh, Hunk, this is Pidge. Lance. You’ve met Shiro and Keith.”

“I swear I’m way cooler than he makes me sound.” Lance said, raising both arms behind his head casually.

“I have no doubt.” It was difficult to tell if Onara was being serious or not, causing Lance to cast a second look, his façade cracking a little.

Behind them, Allura cleared her throat and Ser Onara froze, raising her head, her eyes wide for a moment. 

“Your Highness.” The Knight dropped to one knee, taking her bayard from her hip and raising it to her chest in a sign of reverence. “My deepest apologies for my failure in the mission your father, may his soul rest eternal, laid out for me. If you see fit, I will bear any punishment you deem worthy…”

There was a terse silence that pressed in on them from all sides.

“Failure?” Allura’s voice was gentle but strong as her brows knit. In moments like this, Shiro admired her for her leadership skills. He could tell the princess was heartbroken, but she hid it behind an eternal façade of calm charm and grace. “Tell me, Ser Knight, how have you failed?”

Ser Onara inhaled deeply. “In failing to reach the Blue Lion’s position, in not being there in time to train the Paladin appropriately. In failure to follow protocol. In failure to my superiors.”

“You have not failed, my good Knight, but have been delayed. We…the Paladins have much to learn from you.”

Onara remained on her knee, Allura looking a bit uncomfortable and flustered.

“Please…rise and meet your Paladins.” She stepped back, gesturing with a smile. “You have met Shiro, the Black Paladin, and Keith, the Red…”

“I’m Green.” Pidge shrugged. “Hunk is Yellow, and Lance is Blue.”

Onara rose, turning slightly to look at them all. There was a tiredness, a tension behind her eyes that Shiro understood; she was withholding a deep, unexpressed grief.

He couldn’t help but feel empathy for her; he had been in that position often. Her eyes met his for just a moment and Shiro felt his stomach churn uncomfortably.

“Anyway, I think we got this whole Voltron thing sorted out.” Keith said, sitting down and draping his arm across the back of the couch.

The Knight turned, looking at the boy. “Is that so?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, yeah. It’s not that hard. We just fly around and become a giant robot…thing...”

“Then you have been able to master the reverse nuclear fusion cannons?”

The room was silent for a moment and Shiro could feel the hesitation from the other Paladins. Keith was visibly uncomfortable.

“Uh, totally.”

“Fascinating. And what practical application do you feel the cannons have?” She folded her hands behind her back in the same manner a teacher might lecture a wayward student. Each of the kids avoided eye contact with the Knight.

More silence followed. It would have been funny had Shiro not been cringing so hard. It was clear to him that the Knight was bluffing, but he didn’t say anything; this was a teachable moment for them all.

“It uh…blows stuff up?” Hunk suggested, earning a dirty look from Keith. 

Onara’s face softened a little to what was almost the ghost of a smile and she shook her head.

“It is a ruse, dear Paladins.” She said, addressing the group. “Reverse nuclear fusion cannons are a fabrication. While even I do not know all of Voltron’s secrets, I can assure you, there is no such weapon.”

Keith and Hunk exchanged glances, the taller sinking back onto the couch just a little.

“Why don’t you know all of Voltron’s secrets?”

“What makes you think you can train all of us?”

“When are we getting back to the Balmera to rescue Shay and the rest of the Balmerans?”

The kids erupted into a multitude of questions, which the Knight fielded with an admirable patience, though she was visibly flustered at the barrage.

“Guys, one at a time, okay?” Shiro called, feeling his voice getting lost in the fray. The Knight turned to look at him, opening her mouth to thank him, but was interrupted.

“Hey, how do we know we can trust you?” Pidge piped up. Onara raised her eyebrows as she looked at the smallest Paladin. There was visible distress etched into her features, though she exhaled calmly.

“I cannot, and will not, tell you to trust me. I can only hope to earn your trust through my actions.” She said calmly. Shiro swallowed hard; he had heard that before, almost verbatim, from Ulaz.

“Blindly following someone…” The Knight hesitated, inhaling deeply. Shiro could tell there was something she wanted to say, poisonous vitriol brimming on her lips. “It is a fool’s errand. May your first lesson from be me to question those who insist on absolute loyalty without first earning it.”

The kids each exchanged glances and Coran cleared his throat nervously. “Ser Onara…”

“My apologies…I digress” Onara said quietly, regaining some of her composure. “I was meant to specifically train the Blue Paladin, but Coran and I have agreed –barring your Highness' permission, of course- that I will serve all of you respectively, to the best of my abilities, in the absence of the other Knights. To carry on King Alfor’s legacy, and to serve not only Altea, but Voltron itself.”

“We’ll take all the help we can get!” Allura said cheerily, taking both of Onara’s hands in her own. The woman looked stunned, staring down at their joined hands.

“Your Highness, I…”

“Welcome to the team.” Shiro said, resting his hand on her armored shoulder. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the woman, but he wanted to keep an eye on her, to see if she could prove herself as a trustworthy member of the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hnnnnngggh Zarkon, I'm tryna sneak around but I'm dummy thick and the clap from my ass keeps alerting Voltron


	5. Gravity

Shiro sat on his bed, looking down at his Galra arm, his lungs aching as his mind wandered back to all of the events that led him to this point. 

Once the kids had introduced themselves to the Knight and hit her with a barrage of questions that only went half or partially answered, Coran had ushered them all out so that Allura and Ser Onara could have a private conversation. 

Something about this had bothered him deeply. He didn’t like to have secrets kept from him, especially in situations like this, where it could impact the trust that the team had built up, and possibly put them all in danger. 

And seeing the Princess leave the meeting visibly upset had done little to calm his discomfort about the entire situation.  
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to trust Ser Onara, but that after all he’d been through, he just couldn’t after everything. Certainly, it had been easy to trust Coran and Allura, but there was something about Onara… 

His fellow Paladins seemed to have mixed feelings about her, as well, so he knew he was in good company.

It did little to help the situation that immediately, Lance had claimed special ‘rights’ to her time and training, as she was the Blue Knight, and Keith had taken a certain offence to the whole thing. 

It took a good fifteen minutes for Shiro to calm down the group. Already, the Knight was causing problems, though Shiro knew he couldn’t fully blame her. None of this, as far as he knew, had been intentional, and none of it had been anything she had deliberately instigated. 

Still, Ser Onara’s presence aboard the ship vexed Shiro in ways that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He chalked it down to hypervigilance brought on by his time in Zarkon’s Arena, but there was also an aching knot behind his ribs that he couldn’t shake. 

It didn’t help that Sendak was imprisoned in a stasis pod, looming like a dark shadow at the edge of Shiros mind.

Just knowing that the Galra commander was close made Shiro’s palms itch, his stomach twisting. He could never forget what Sendak had done to him, or forgive the atrocities he had been forced to carry out by the monster, the few he could remember. 

Shiro looked down at his Galra arm, frowning as he tried to recall memories of the arena. It felt as though he was missing something vital, something that caused his heart to ache in a way that he hadn’t felt since…

Since Adam…

He inhaled slowly as he thought back to his past, to Adam and the last time he had been genuinely happy, the last time he had felt safe and secure, that he had felt he could trust someone.

In the end, he learned that he couldn’t even trust Adam. 

While he understood Adam’s heart had been in the right place, it had stung deeply to have him go behind Shiro’s back like that, and then to hit him with an ultimatum… 

Maybe Adam had been right about the Kerberos Mission. Maybe he never should have gone, he should have stayed home and wasted away, never achieved his dream of pushing to the furthest reaches of space…

But Shiro had needed this last mission; to prove to himself it was all for something. To tell himself he could do it in spite of his illness. He never could have anticipated any of the events that led him to becoming the Black Paladin, to making first contact with the Galra Empire…

He sighed, rising to his feet, feeling restless.

Shiro had taken to patrolling the corridors when he felt like his own thoughts were getting to be too much for him. When he couldn’t calm his mind down. 

He opened the door, stepping out into the hallway, picking his way through the corridors, the lights dimmed to match some semblance of a circadian rhythm. 

In the back of his mind, Shiro knew where he was going, though he tried to tell himself it was random. 

Dim, purple light flooded the hall before him, cryo pods lining the walls. 

Shiro held his breath as he approached Sendak’s pod, his head feeling fuzzy and his limbs feeling as though they were filled with a painful electricity. It felt almost as if he were outside of himself.

A tug in his gut told him to stop. To turn around. To not look the Galra in the face. 

Shiro steeled himself against the urge to turn away, but was distracted by a distant sound that made his heart ring in his ears; fleeting footsteps, soft on the metal floors.

He paused for a moment, torn between his desire to face Sendak and turning back to see who could possibly be roaming the halls this time of night. 

The kids needed rest before facing the Galra in the morning; they had to be well rested to try to save the Balmera. 

Shiro hesitated a moment before he sighed, turning back towards the source of the noise, bracing himself to get into an argument with Keith or Pidge about getting plentiful rest. 

Instead, Shiro saw a flash of blue as Onara slipped from sight, her dressing gown trailing in her wake.

Shiro felt his blood freeze in his veins; what could she possibly be doing out, alone, roaming the castle halls? 

He inhaled, before following her as quietly as he could through the maze of hallways and chambers, always staying far enough behind to avoid detection. 

In her hand, she held the jewel she had worn on the front of her armor as a means of lighting up the darkened hallways, filling her path with a watery, blue light.

Immediately his mind went back to Sendak and he felt his stomach roil. What if she was a sleeper agent, sent to free Sendak? To trick them all and deliver Voltron into the hands of Zarkon?

As if sensing his thoughts, Ser Onara stopped abruptly, turning her head slightly, causing Shiro to press himself against the wall behind her, holding his breath as he waited for her to press onward. 

They passed the control room, the sitting room, the kitchen, Shiro finding himself withholding his breath as he followed as quietly as he could manage. 

If she were to deliver the Castle to Zarkon, she had vastly missed the opportunity to reroute the navigation system, unless she were to rely on Sendak for help. 

The Knight stopped at one point, turning to look with a troubled expression. Shiro’s heart was in his ears as he flattened himself against one of the support pillars, waiting for the Knight to resume her course as his heart hammered in his ears, his blood flowing. 

He was sure she had seen him by now, or was at least aware she was being followed.

Every inch of his body was aware and filled with a sharp fear, his stomach twisting nervously.

Instead, the Knight resumed her course, walking on swift feet until she was outside the door to one of the Castles’ cargo holds, her fingers splaying firmly across the security panel as it scanned her hand. 

The lights within the hold seemed bright in comparison to the hallway as it opened slowly, and Shiro watched as she disappeared inside. 

Cautiously, he stole forward, knitting his brow as he blinked against the sudden, artificial light. 

In that hold, they had placed the now defunct convoy ship, its damage looking even more grievous than it had in the vacuum of space. 

He hesitated in the shadows, watching as the Knight stood stock-still outside the Altean craft, absolutely silent as she stared up at its hulking mass. He could feel his blood pressure roiling in his  
ears, though his limbs now felt cold as he understood a little better: She hadn’t been after Sendak. 

It felt like an hour had ticked by as he watched her, just standing in the shadow of the ship, her head bowed and hand clasped over her heart in the same salute she had given them all hours before. 

Silently, she took a step forward, resting her forehead on the hull of the ship, leaning heavily against it in an embrace that Shiro now understood as one of grief. 

He exhaled through clenched teeth, relaxing his shoulders and fighting back a fresh wave of guilt for doubting the woman. 

It would, of course, be natural for her to be grieving her comrades, and now he felt bad for following her, for spying on such a private moment. 

But he couldn’t just let her go about unchecked, to let the possibility of her betrayal come to fruition. He had the others to think about; above all, he had to protect the kids. 

“It has been a long time since I was briefed on Terran behavior, but do all make a habit of lurking outside of doorways?” Her voice, though strong, seemed lost in the vastness of the room and the hum of the filtration system. 

Shiro’s throat tightened, his entire body tensing at the sound of her voice, his fight or flight instincts kicking in. He forced himself into a state of calm before appearing in the doorway. 

Onara stood with her back to him, her hand still outstretched against the scarred hull of the ship. 

“Sorry, I…I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I do not suppose you did.” She straightened up, dropping her hand and turning to him. 

Her eyes were full of emotion, though she met his gaze steadily, her face passive. Amicable.

Under the weight of her eyes, he felt exposed, unworthy of the title of Paladin. “It is natural, you know. And good. To not readily trust an outsider. I am glad someone on the team is willing to act on their suspicion.”

“Do I have reason to be suspicious?” Shiro felt his own words sitting heavily on his tongue. Out of habit, he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorjamb. 

“Do I?” She gestured to his arm.

Shiro looked down at the smooth metal, knitting his brow as he fought back a sudden wave or irritation, feeling as though his heart was pounding against his sternum. 

“It’s a long story.” He said, after a moment, his voice taking on a harder edge than perhaps he had intended. Onara made a noise of acknowledgement, turning back to her ship and running her palm against the pockmarked metal. The silence was stiff, nearly tangible. 

While Shiro’s curiosity pressed him, he now understood her position a little better. He had no right to ask her about what happened aboard the ship than she did to ask him about his arm.

“I owe you an apology for attacking you earlier.” She said after a moment of silence, turning back to face him, her hand over her chest as she inclined her head forward in a slight bow.

Shiro waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve had worse.”

She gave him an appraising look, seeming to take in his features. He met her eyes for a moment before he found himself deferring subconsciously. The power she had over him made him deeply uncomfortable. She was intimidating in a way he couldn’t fully pinpoint. 

He hated it. 

“The Princess told me a little, she told me about your captivity…about your guest aboard the castle. Worry not, she did not go into detail. Just a brief background on each of the Paladins, as she understood them.”

Shiro nodded, trying not to let his displeasure show. He knew it was ridiculous, but it still bothered him when he knew other people were talking about him and his experiences without his knowledge. 

It brought anew the wave of sadness that he had felt when he recalled Adam. 

“You should rest. You need to be alert, as the Head of Voltron you need to be ready for anything, and it sounds like we have quite a task ahead of us with the Balmera. I hope to asses everyone once this is all over, to see how best I can help.” She spoke gently, watching his face carefully as if to confirm he heard her. 

He uncrossed his arms, letting a diplomatic smile cross his face. 

“You should get some rest as well.” 

“With all due respect, Paladin, I have been asleep for nearly ten thousand doboshes.” Her eyes seemed to burn with a mixture of amusement and frustration, her mouth pulling slightly into what was almost a smile. He could tell this was a dry attempt at humor, and felt himself relax a little at her attempt. 

It seemed, though, that her smile was contagious, because Shiro found himself smiling earnestly now at her overly dramatic way of saying ‘I can’t sleep’.

“Fair.”

“Let us return to our chambers, we shall leave our ghosts to rest for another day.” She said, sweeping towards the door, her bare feet making the faintest padding sound against the metal floor as she escorted him out, closing the door behind them. 

They walked in silence for an uncomfortably long amount of time, Shiro trying to find a way to politely word the multitude of questions that were boiling in his mind. He still couldn’t shake the feeling of suspicion that welled inside him. 

“So what’s going to happen now?” Shiro paused, turning to look at her, knitting his brow. “What are we going to do with…” He stopped himself before he said ‘the bodies’, wincing a little when she stopped, her brows furrowing deeply. 

She inhaled slowly, raising her chin. 

“I didn’t mean to…”

“It is a valid question. There is much that you, as the Black Paladin, and as someone aboard this ship, need to know. Some I have prober answers to, some I do not.”

“I don’t understand…what, exactly, is stopping you from telling us? What don’t you want us know?” Shiro frowned, turning to look at the Knight fully. 

Onara met his eyes, sucking in her cheeks as she contemplated him carefully before she spoke.

“It is not a matter of me not wanting to tell you, Dear Paladin. I am afraid it is far more complex…When I became a Knight of Alfor, I swore fealty to the King, to the service of Voltron…” She hesitated, visibly mulling her words over. There was a humanity in that action that Shiro found somewhat reassuring.

“I intend to serve out that oath until my dying breath. The Knights were never meant to be known. We were selected to serve our Lions and our Paladins, and pass into obscurity. Not even Princess Allura knew of The Knights.” She tilted her head slightly. “But I have a feeling you knew that already.”

“Coran…briefed us before we boarded your ship. Not anything detailed, just…What the Knights were. And that he had been under the impression that the mission had failed.” Shiro tried to hold back his irritation. She seemed to be avoiding directly answering his question.

She nodded, drawing her hand up to her chin in an expression of contemplation. 

“He was not supposed to say as much, but I suppose given the circumstances, little can be helped.”

“I don’t think anyone anticipated any of this.” Shiro gestured vaguely with his hand. 

“It has been more than a lifetime, after all.” She said evenly. “We did not anticipate Zarkon’s…we did not…”

He could tell she was struggling a little, her brow knitting as she seemed to stare at a fixed point on his chest. She was holding back emotion.

“In telling us anything without Allura’s permission, you are, or feel you are, breaking your oath to King Alfor, aren’t you?”

“Yes, it is…complicated. But you have a handle on the basics.” There was visible relief etched in her face, and Shiro nodded thoughtfully. 

There were still a thousand burning questions in the back of his mind, but he knew he’d have to approach them all in good time.

“What about Coran?” Shiro said as they approached the sleeping quarters. In the dim lights, he found himself watching Onara’s face for any shift, any tells she might have that would incriminate  
or absolve her of suspicion.

“Coran…We are old friends, one might say. He advised on the selection of candidates for Knighthood, counselled the King on what steps to take to ensure our success, to train us properly incase things went poorly…” She sighed, a familiar exhaustion tugging at her eyes. “It is a shame it was for nothing. Zarkon still won.”

“Hey, It’s like Allura said.” Shiro put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’re here now, aren’t you? We’ll take down Zarkon, with your help.”

“Yes.” Onara smiled, her expression still reserved, couched in sadness, but it gave Shiro and odd feeling of hope to see a smile on the Knight’s face. “Yes, I suppose the Princess is right. I am here, and I will do everything I can to help all of you. You have my word, in the name of Alfor.” She returned the gesture, placing her hand on his shoulder. 

For a moment, Shiro was unable to formulate a thought, his thoughts seeming to blur together for a moment. 

Shiro gave her a half smile, their eyes meeting briefly before he withdrew his hand. 

That same discomfort from before had settled back into his stomach, though this time it felt more like a heavy ache right behind his ribs. 

“Get some rest, Paladin.” She raised her hand over her heart in a salute, bowing her head. Shiro blinked, once again taken aback by the gentle formality that the Altean race seemed to exude. “All will come to light with due course, on my honor.”

Briefly, Shiro wondered if he should mirror her action, or perhaps offer his own salute, but before he made up his mind she had already turned away. In her wake, her pale blue dressing gown billowed softly. 

Shiro sighed, leaning against the door and crossing his arms, thinking back on her words as he tried to dispel the uneasiness that had settled within.

The paranoid half of his brain told him that her words sounded like little more than a tidy excuse, that there was a possibility that she had fabricated the whole story. Perhaps even she was the one to attack her group. 

It seemed to fit a little too well, a little too convenient that she would be the only survivor.

But why? And why hide in range of a pulsar, hiding their signature for ten thousand years, in a ship that had barely made it? It would have been too much of a shot in the dark. 

He had seen the transmissions of her fighting beside her fellow knights, standing against whatever or whoever was against them. Algoma had mentioned the fall of the Red and Black Knights, that there had been some kind of problem. Perhaps Onara, Algoma, and Alvida had rebelled? Tried to overthrow the order?

Or perhaps Gleaves and Ingham had betrayed the group, or gone mad…

Shiro admitted, he had his own theories about what had gone on, and he wanted to question Ser Onara further, but he knew he needed to bide his time.

Instead, he resolved to hold a degree of caution towards the Knight, although now he understood her position and her hesitation a little better. He could respect her promise to Alfor and her loyalty to the dead king, and any help the Paladins could get would be an asset. 

For now, they had to make it back to the Balmera and save the brave Balmerans who had put themselves on the line to help Voltron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta readers, we die like mne.


	6. The Return to The Balmera

The Balmera appeared across the view screen of the Castle ship, everyone falling momentarily silent. The entire system seemed to be ensconced in a toxic looking yellow sheen made from matter that floated around the creature. 

Shiro could all but feel the horror and outrage radiating from the Alteans aboard the Castle Ship, and he swore he heard Onara whisper under her breath as they approached the creature. Allura averted her gaze for a moment, sorrow etching her face before she stiffened her resolve. 

“We’ll be arriving at the Balmera soon.” Allura’s voice was solemn, her brows knit in concentration as her hands hovered gently over the navigation pedestals. “Liberating these Balmerans from Zarkon’s grasp will not be an easy task.” 

“So what’s the plan? Do we just go in there and just…” Lance waved his hands “POW POW POW, free the prisoners?”

“What…what was that noise you just made?” Keith gave Lance an incredulous look and Shiro grit his teeth to keep from laughing. Now wasn’t really the time, but he had to admit, it was funny.

“Lazer guns.” Lance seemed especially proud of himself while Onara and Coran exchanged a hesitant glance from their consoles.

“No, Lance, I think they’re more like ‘Pzow Pzow Pzow’.” Hunk raised his arms, imitating the firing of a canon. “Pzew!”

“That sounds like fireworks…”

“Technically they’re more like ‘Bchew! Bchew! Bchew!’” Pidge interjected, pretending to fire a handgun. Allura looked vaguely alarmed and Onara raised her hand, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Okay! Enough with the bad sound effects.” Shiro was having a hard time holding back his amusement. “Besides, it’s more like ‘BLAM BLAM BLAM!” He aimed, dropping to one knee

“What! You’re crazy.”

“No way.”

“Uh, Wrong.”

“Paladins, please! Focus on the task at hand.” Allura’s voice was short as she tried to bring them all back to the gravity of the Balmera’s situation, but Shiro had to admit, granting the kids a little levity had been helpful in easing the tension. 

From the console, Onara raised her eyebrows, giving them all an appraising, uncertain look from beneath her thick bangs. Coran’s fingers were flying over the holopanels as he streamed line after line of data, detailing the Galra’s occupation of the creature. 

“I would advise against rushing into this situation, Paladins. We cannot simply blast our way through the Galra.” Onara said after a minute, pulling up an anatomical diagram of a Balmera on the view screen for all to observe. “Let us not forget that the Balmera is a living creature, and is already quite weak according to Hunk and Coran’s intelligence…”

“It’s an atrocity what the Galra have done to this grand beast...” Coran said, his tone grave. “Stealing its crystals, its very life force, without ever performing the energy rejuvenation ceremonies to heal it…”

“Seeing Shay's people enslaved…it made me realize how bad Zarkon really is.” Hunk said quietly, looking down with a deep frown that felt so very out of character for the normally cheerful teen. “And we're the only ones who can stop him.”

“Right. So Plan B. We find a way to draw the Galra up to the surface, and battle them out there.” Shiro looked up at the damaged creature that floated in the viewscreen.

Seeing the brutality of the Galra once again laid bare only served to reaffirm Shiro’s resolve that the Galra had to be stopped at all costs.

“I know!” Pidge’s voice was bright. “If we attack all the mining stuff on the surface, the Galra troops will have to come out and defend it.”

“Then we beat them up, head down to the tunnels, and Voltron saves the day.” Hunk seemed to brighten a little bit at the solution as he made hand gestures to emphasize their plan. It was pretty clear that he was trying to keep his sunny façade in front of his teammates, but he was still visibly troubled. Shiro looked back at the screen, trying to factor in any ways the plan could go wrong. 

“But how will we know how many are left in the tunnels?” Keith beat Shiro to the punch, exchanging a glance with his mentor. 

“We can track the Galra and the Balmerans using Biothermal Life Indicator Point Technology.” Allura said calmly, uncrossing her arms. 

“Oh! BLIP-tech.” Pidge interjected before the princess could elaborate. Allura looked a little surprised, confusion clouding her bright blue eyes as she looked down at the Green Paladin. 

“Its…it’s an acronym.” Pidge said, adjusting her glasses and looking up at Allura wish a sheepish smile.

“We’ll need someone to fly around the Balmera and drop sensors into each side. Then we’ll be able to track where the Galra and the Balmerans are.” Coran used his hands to illuminate a diagram of two of the deeper mining craters, giving a rough idea of where the Paladins should direct their efforts. “There are already sensors built into your suits.”

“I can do it! I just modified the Green Lion with the invisible maze’s cloaking mechanism. I should be able to fly around unnoticed.”

Onara turned sharply to look at Pidge, her eyes a mixture of horror and amazement at the mention of the Lion’s modification. Coran cleared his throat, causing the Knight to turn her attention back to the task at hand. 

“This is the main power generator.” Onara’s voice was curt as she zoomed in on a particular spot on the Balmera, pulling up a satellite image of the Galra machinery on the surface of the creature for further emphasis. “Once that is taken out, the Galra defenses will be severely weakened. But you must be very careful, the Balmera cannot afford to take any more damage. We are talking a catastrophic loss of life. I cannot stress this enough, dear Paladins.”

“We’ll stay in cloud cover and provide tactical support. With the Castle’s defenses weakened from Sendak’s crystal, we won’t be of much help to you, I’m afraid.” Allura said patiently, concern etching her features as she clasped her hands in an effort to control her anxiety over the situation. 

“I’ll take out the power generator.” Shiro found himself volunteering, casting a glance at the kids. “Kieth, Lance, Hunk, you take care of the big mining rigs around the area.”

“Yeah! Okay, let's do this! Let's go kick some alien butt!” Hunk was visibly eager, pumping his fist in the air. Shiro felt his stomach twist with excitement and fear. This was it. This was really, genuinely it. 

“Hey, you think the Balmerans will have a parade for us after we've freed everybody?” Lance’s voice cut through Shiro’s thoughts, causing the feeling of excitement to drain away almost immediately, only to be replaced by embarrassment. 

“It's not about the glory, Lance. It's about freeing prisoners from Zarkon.” Keith’s voice betrayed his annoyance and Shiro braced himself for a new fight between the two teens. 

Onara looked thoroughly mortified but said nothing, never dropping her composure as she sent Coran a new set of statistics on the Balmera with a wave of her armored hand. She clenched her jaw as if she were actively biting her tongue as Lance dug himself deeper. 

“No, I know. I know…” Lance seemed only a little embarrassed at the rebuke. “But still.” He gestured vaguely. 

“Okay. Let’s get our heads in the game.” Shiro called, hoping to diffuse the situation before it escalated any further. He couldn’t help but feel apprehension: this was their first real mission as Voltron, and lives hung in the balance. Could the team really put aside their differences in a situation like this?

There was so much at stake now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this round. Life is presently kicking my ass. 
> 
> I forgot to say I have art of Onara and some of the other Knights on my blog, professor-bats-art on tumglr.


	7. Sacrifice

The Balmera shook and shuddered as Shiro and the rest of the Paladins each made their way down to the core to save Shay, hot on the trails of the Galra forces. 

When they had arrived on the surface, Shiro noticed that there was a distinct absence of Galra forces, something confirmed by Keith when he reported back from the hanger that he and Lance were sent to sabotage. 

Shiro knew it was a gamble in the best of terms, and a trap in the worst, but they had to at least try. 

“They're drawing us into an ambush, but we don't have a choice if we want to save Shay. We have to follow.” Shiro’s voice sounded deceptively calm over the headset, though he felt like his hands were shaking as he proceeded down the narrow maze of arteries that led to the heart of the Balmera. 

The Paladins pushed through to the central chamber, the large, blue Balmera crystal pulsing faintly and flooding the sweltering chamber with a pale light. 

Suspended above the floor in front of the crystal was what Shiro assumed was a Balmeran woman, a metal mask clasped firmly over her face to keep her from making too much noise.

She was tall and muscular, with a face that radiated an unfathomable kindness, despite her distinctly alien appearance. 

She thrashed when she saw them, her bright yellow eyes going wide as she moaned, shaking her head.

They had made a mistake. 

“Shay! You're alive!” Hunk rushed forward without a moment of hesitation. Shay twisted in her restraints, her voice muffled and her eyes wide with fear as the boy released her from her imprisonment. 

“Where are the Galra? If this is an ambush, they should be here waiting for us.” Pidge’s brows furrowed as she clutched her bayard, her expression one of almost veiled disappointment, as if she had been hoping to meet a horde of Galra troops head-on.

“Not an ambush… more like a trap.” Keith said, his dark eyes narrowed as he scanned the chamber. 

“Whatever it is, keep your guard up.” Shiro cautioned, readying his own bayard just in case, feeling sweat beading on his brow. The moment he had seen the expression on the woman’s face, he knew there would be trouble. 

As if on cue, the massive metal doors clanged shut in every direction, sealing them all inside the heart of the ancient creature. 

Shiro felt his pulse jump, a feeling of dread filling him as he turned to look for an exit. The Paladins each exchanged a glance, Shay’s expression betraying her absolute dread and fear.   
“The Galra, they gained knowledge that you would return to the Balmera.” She said, her gentle voice barely above a fearful whisper. 

Hunk knit his brow, frowning at the young Balmeran. He seemed calm, but Shiro’s trained eye caught the tremble of fear and anger in the teens hands. “But… How?”

“I know not. But they set this trap just for you… I was the bait.” Shay’s voice was tearful, apologetic.

“Who could have possibly known that we were heading here to save Shay?” Pidge’s even voice cut the tension, the girl raising her hand to her chin in thought. Behind her amber eyes, Shiro could see her thoughts churning already. 

“Rolo! Those liars must have told Zarkon.” Lance hissed, slamming his fist down on his palm, his cheeks flushing in anger. 

“We shouldn’t have stopped for the Knights…” Hunk’s expression darkened, his hand still on Shay’s shoulder.

“We have to figure out how to get out of here.” Shiro said evenly, feeling uncomfortable at the multitude of thoughts and emotions that were rushing through his head, the tension tangible in that little room. 

If they hadn’t stopped for the Knights…

Shiro couldn’t shake the image of Onara from his mind, her face lit by the glow of her brooch. He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. 

The Balmera let out a shuddering, high-pitched moan, shaking rocks from the ceiling in the throes of agony. 

Lance’s face betrayed the sheer terror Shiro felt in the pit of his stomach as the group braced themselves against the tremors. 

“Wait! We have a giant Castle ship hovering in the sky.” Pidge’s voice rose with excitement, her eyes bright. “Allura, can you please come get us?"

“How do you expect her to do that, genius?” Keith’s voice was flat, though there was a slight temper of hope behind the heavy veil of sarcasm. 

“I don't know, maybe they got teleporters or something.” Pidge’s tone was sharp and Shiro braced himself to diffuse another argument. Now was most certainly not the time for the teens to start bickering. 

However, Allura’s cool voice cut through the tension, causing all of the Paladins to exchange an alarmed look. 

“We're quite occupied at the moment.” 

“We are completely surrounded by Galra ships and we are taking heavy fire.” Onara’s voice was rough, couched in panic and frustration. An alarm was blaring in the background, nearly drowning out the soldier’s unnervingly calm voice. 

“Princess, our particle barrier won't last much longer! Paladins, you need to get out of there as soon as you can!” Coran interjected, the sounds of him working the ship’s system barely audible in the background. 

“This is it! We're going to die in here.” Hunk’s voice cracked.

“I can say bye-bye to that parade…” Lance sounded miserable.

“Get it together, guys.” Shiro forced a calm over his voice, fighting back the wave of frustration and embarrassment. He had to keep his cool. Now was not the time for him to panic, despite the knot that was growing behind his ribs. “Allura, Coran…” he felt his voice falter, Onara’s name seemingly catching in his throat. His heart seemed to still for a moment, and he knit his brow. 

“…we'll get there as soon as we can.” Shiro finished, stiffening his resolve.

“Perhaps my people can help us get out. The Balmera senses our vibrations and sends a message to those in the tunnels.” Shay raised her hand and pressed it firmly against the wall of the Balmera, her voice timid but her expression hopeful. 

“Are you sure someone will be able to hear…your hand…from all the way down here?” Pidge looked incredulous and Shiro turned fully to face them, all eyes on the young alien 

“The Balmera will deliver the message.” Shay’s eyes shone, alight with confidence for just a moment before Allura’s panicked voice cut through their intercoms.

“They're heading down into the tunnels! They're going to steal the Lions! Paladins, the Lions are in danger! You must get back to them immediately!” 

The panic was palpable, radiating down through the tunnels and striking a thrill of fear that ripped through Shiro’s spine. 

An alarm blared through the headset, causing the kids to flinch, covering their ears, despite their helmets being the conveyance of the noise. 

Coran’s voice was almost drowned out by the din. “Princess, something's locked onto us!”

“Paladins, do you copy? There's a battle cruiser locked onto us. If it fires with its ion cannon, I don't know if we can survive! Se-Ser Onara, where are you going? Ser Onara, stop!”

Shiro’s stomach dropped. Was this it? Was this the inevitable betrayal? That discomfort with Onara he had felt from the start? 

“Allura, what’s happening?” Shiro turned away from the kids, who each were exchanging nervous glances. 

“I am going to draw their fire.” Onara’s voice came over the headset, firm and clear despite the blare of the siren in the background. 

“No, you can’t!” Allura’s voice cracked with distress and grief, and Lance was the first to respond, trying to console the Princess. 

“We're trying, Allura.”

“Just hold on. Don’t do anything brash.” Shiro cautioned over the headset, motioning for the kids to calm. The last thing he needed was for them to start panicking. 

“Ser Onara!” Coran’s voice sounded shaky, almost terrified beneath his matter-of-fact façade.

There was radio silence that felt thick and heavy. No response from the Knight. No word from either Coran or Allura.

For all Shiro knew, she could be slaughtering Allura and Coran where they stood, delivering Voltron into Zarkon’s grasp. 

Shiro felt his breath coming up short, his chest tight. There was no sound, no commotion over the airwaves. Nothing. 

“Coran! What’s the situation?” Shiro barked into his communicator, his tone impatient as he caught Keith’s eye. In that moment, he knew the boy was thinking the same thing he was. 

“We’re still taking heavy fire. Diverting all energy to the shields. We can’t hold the Galra off for long!” Shiro couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief at hearing the redheads voice cutting through the din. 

“I will do everything within my power to buy you all some time.” Onara’s voice was muffled, as if she were speaking through fabric. She was walking, or running, rather. 

“Onara, stand down!” Shiro snapped into the communicator, feeling his blood pressure climbing with the heat inside the chamber. 

Shay stood in silence, her hand pressed up against the wall of the chamber. The heat inside the Balmera was stifling, the air stale and short. Shiro could practically feel the radiation emanating from the crystal. There was no telling what it might be doing to himself or the kids…

"Shay, are you sure the Balmera is sending your message? We don’t have much more time!” 

Suddenly, the Balmera shook, giving a tremendous, trembling moan and Shay’s eyes brightened. 

The doors wrenched open in front of them, revealing several more Balmerans of varying shapes and heights. 

Shiro didn’t have a full chance to process the aliens, one rushing forward and embracing Shay.

“Rax! We must make haste.” Shay only returned the embrace only for a moment. There was a tension between them that Shiro understood all too well; Rax had betrayed Shay’s trust. 

“Come, we know a shortcut through the tunnels.” Rax said after a moment, his yellow eyes travelling cautiously over the Paladins. 

“Lead the way.” Lance gestured vaguely towards the tunnels.

“Allura, stand by. Ser Onara, don’t do anything brash. We're on our way up.” Shiro seemed to be rationing his breath as he spoke, hope rising in his chest as he made his way through the tunnels towards his Lion. 

“Paladins, hurry! They're taking off with the Lions!” Allura’s voice was panicked over the headset, cracking from stress and fear as the Paladins made their way through the tunnels towards their respective lions. 

Shiro swallowed the lump in his throat as he climbed into the cockpit of the Black Lion, barely able to control the shake of his hands as he wrapped his fingers around the controls. 

He felt the twist of fear and panic, blood pumping in his ears. He needed to calm down, but his heart and his mind were spinning at the speed of light. 

“Guys, did everyone make it to the lions in time?” Shiro forced a calm over himself as he let his hands fall comfortably onto the controls, tugging back on the thrusters as he lifted off from the bowels of the Balmera.

“Come on, Shiro. Who you think you're dealing with, a bunch of amateurs?” Lance’s voice was smooth, smug.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” Keith’s voice echoed flatly in Shiro’s ears. The last thing they needed was for those two to start bickering now…

There was a momentary pause before Lance mumbled a tentative ‘No’ into his headset. Shiro exhaled slowly between his teeth. They could settle their differences after this whole ordeal…

“Let's go!” Shiro’s voice came out far more confident than he felt as he navigated the narrow, crumbling arteries of the ancient creature. 

Shiro broke the surface, the bright light of a nearby star seeming almost blinding after spending so much time underground. It felt almost as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Though he knew the real fight was far from over, just breaking free of the confines of the Balmera seemed like a major step forward. If they could draw the fight away frm the dying beast, they may have a chance at saving the Balmera and its inhabitants. 

Coran was quick to interrupt the feeling of liberation, however.

“It's charging its ion cannon! Divert all shields to the bow!”

An alarm cut the redhead off, and Allura’s voice chimed in. 

“Paladins, I need you immediately! Five more ticks and we're finished! Ser Onara, what’s your location?”

“Fifteen ticks off portside. Targeting their ion cannon. Powering up my guns.” Onara’s voice was cool, calm, despite the sounds of explosions in the background. Shiro could hear her navigation system beeping over the frazzled communication system.

“That won’t be enough, Sir Onara! We need you here!”

“Then I shall draw their fire.” Onara’s tone was resolute, sending chills down Shiro’s spine. 

“Fall back, Ser Onara! The Paladins are on their way.” Shiro steeled his nerves.

Something about hearing the Knight’s voice steeled Shiro’s resolve, and he felt his chest swell with pride and determination. He had to lead the Paladins to victory. He couldn’t let the Knight be the only one holding the line up there. He couldn’t let her sacrifice herself like that.

“Okay, team, let's form Voltron!” 

Cheers from his fellow Paladins echoed in the Shiro’s ears as Voltron’s lions connected, each of the parts docking together and forming an airlock. 

“Right now is our chance, Princess! Full power on the blasters! Locked onto target. Ser Onara, fall back. We’re here now.” Shiro uttered a silent prayer to whatever deity might be paying attention that he wasn’t too late. 

Through the viewscreen, Shiro could make out a small, Altean craft slipping gracefully through the barrage of Galra fighters. Its path was punctuated by explosions as it turned sharply, guided by expert hands. 

“Fire!” Allura cried, a tight, blue beam erupting fourth from the Castles main defensive canon, the Galra ship exploding into a sea of stars, dead-silent in the vacuum of space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long silence. I had the soul-sucking hell job over the summer. Thankfully I'm back in a place I can actually take time to work on this i.e. NOT trapped in 1864 (long story, NOT a time traveler, just a historian). 
> 
> ANYWAY
> 
> I'm really wanting to work on the pacing of this. Since it's a long span between chapters, I keep impulsively wanting to smash Shiro and Onara together and write cute shit but then I'm just 'naw, pacing. They don't even know each other yet, really'.

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note:  
> There's a lot going on here I feel I need to clarify. I actually started this fic nearly a year ago, before Season 7 was released, so I've been trying to edit the beginning to fit canon at least a little. I have a lot of feelings about Adam (many of which are unflattering due to how much of a dick he was being to Shiro), and I'm thinking of making him alive when the kids reach earth towards the end so he doesn't get 'fridged' before he can even manifest as a legitimate character.  
> Idk, at this point I'm just 'fixing' all the things that pissed me off with the series. I'm a very angry, bitter little person. 
> 
> The Knights are my creation, and will hopefully sort of make sense. I actually am making a few history references here, in it's a reference to Convoy On-92, which was crossing the North Atlantic in 1942 when they were ambushed by German forces. Gleaves, Inhgam, Algoma, and Alvida (all Knights in the fic) were parts of the convoy. 
> 
> For the Altean language, I'm substituting Welsh because I really don't have the time to make up a language (who am I? JRR Tolkien?). I've been wanting to flesh out the Altean culture a little, since it seems like not a lot of stuff was revealed or rounded out (I'm always a slut for cultures).  
> In reference to culture and gender, Alteans are defined as 'chameleon-like', so I'm kind of messing around with gender and sexuality in regards to Alteans, namely that their binary isn't as defined as much of Earth's culture is. In this, I'm making the titular character more or less non-binary and can easily 'switch' if they feel like it (wouldn't we all if we got the chance?).


End file.
